


Scarred

by HMS_Chill



Category: American Hippo - Sarah Gailey
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, I just want them to be loved and adored, Other, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, i just have a lot of feelings about Hero Shakcleby, that's all, this is purely self-indulgent y'all ignore me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26124985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMS_Chill/pseuds/HMS_Chill
Summary: I had a lot of feelings about American Hippo and none of y'all wrote fanfic for me to try and process them, so I'm doing it myself three years after the books came out. Just a nice tender moment after the end of Taste of Marrow because these characters deserve a break.
Relationships: Winslow Houndstooth/Hero Shackleby
Comments: 12
Kudos: 8





	Scarred

"Hero?" Winslow asks the darkness of their bedroom. He'd been pretty sure they were awake, but it's still a relief when they hum in response, lazily trailing a hand down his arm. "Why don't I see you shirtless anymore?"

They move a bit more, shifting in bed to face him and ask, "what do you mean?"

He gets the feeling they know exactly what he means, but he pushes on anyway, rubbing at the back of his neck a bit. "Well, I know we didn't have all that much time together before, but it's hot out here, and you'd unbutton your shirt and just let it hang open sometimes back then. Or that night before the Harriet, when we were together, you had it off then, and you didn't seem to mind when I loved it. And you... you're beautiful, Hero, all of you, but ever since the Harriet, you've... you've stayed covered up."

"Well, uh, our friend Adelia did a bit of a number on me," they say, and there's no humor in their laugh. "I'm, uh, I'm just not so sure you'd be too happy with my new look is all."

"Hero, what-- I love you. I've loved you through what felt like the end of the world, and I've hunted you down through months of what felt like the apocalypse. Nothing that's happened to you could ever make me love you any less."

They sit up suddenly, and Winslow feels the movement in the bed more than he sees it. Hero shifts a bit, and Winslow tries to imagine them unbuttoning their shirt, thinking back to that night so long ago when he'd done the same in front of the dying embers of their campfire. The bed shifts again as they lie back down, and then there's a hand on Winslow's, reaching through the darkness to gently guide him to Hero's torso. His fingers find their stomach first, a think rope of scar tissue slashed across it that wasn't there the last time. He trails it with his fingers, imagining how it must look against their skin, then shifts forward. Hero goes still as he presses a gentle kiss to their stomach, trailing his fingers along the scar and trailing soft kisses after them like a hop after its mother. Wordlessly, they bring his hand up their chest to another scar, and this time, he can feel their heartbeat as he ghosts his fingers across it. When he kisses this scar too, feather-light and as tender as he can, he feels their heartbeat quicken.

"Hero Shackleby, you are the most daggum beautiful person either side of the Mississippi," he tells them, reaching a hand up to try and get his own shirt open without ever losing contact with them. They seem to realize what he's doing after a moment, and their hands replace his, gently helping him with the buttons until the shirt falls open. Then, with one hand still on their chest, Winslow guides their hand to the scar across his own.

"We just match is all," he says, hoping they can hear his smile even if they can't see it in the darkness. "I used to hate this scar, but that night early on, it... it was what got you to touch me the first time. It helped me open up to you a bit. And now, when I see it, it's not... it's less a reminder of what I lost, and more a reminder of what we found and built together."

"Here I thought you might be disappointed in me," Hero says, their voice thick.

"Never," Winslow tells them. He shifts up a bit in the bed to kiss their lips, one hand tracing along a scar while the other cups their face, gently wiping at the tears it finds.

"How did I get so lucky as to have you?" they ask, and Winslow chuckles a bit.

"I ask myself the same thing every day. I'm not sure what kinda god would reward me for what I've done, but whoever's up there gave me you, and that's the best thing I could imagine."

Hero leans up to kiss him then, and Winslow shuts up happily, reveling in their closeness and letting the darkness and crickets and the sounds of sleeping hippos wrap around them like a blanket. 

"I think... I don't know if I'll show them off around the ranch; I don't want Ysabel to ask questions or to make Adelia feel bad. But here, where it's just the two of us, I... I think maybe we could figure something out."

Winslow hums, pressing another kiss to a scar, and they fall asleep with his head on their chest. And, when they wake up the next morning, the light of the rising sun paints two scarred chests a brilliant gold.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like an hour and don't have _River of Teeth_ on me, so uh... if the little flashback scenes are off that's why. But the fact that there was no content for this series was a crime that I had to remedy, so I hope y'all can forgive me.  
> -  
> I'm [HMS-Chill](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hms-chill) on tumblr for fic stuff, and I'd love to chat either there or here about this series. No one is talking about it but I have lots of feelings and a desperate need to share them. Thanks y'all!


End file.
